Thought So!

Puppies and Guinea Pigs

I always feel a bit sorry for puppies in a pet shop cage—just wire and a water bowl, nothing to snuggle into.  Guinea pigs, on the other hand, appear to smother themselves in sawdust, and crave cardboard and bits of cloth.

Look around your house.  Do your tables and counter tops stretch before you like a calm sea, or does it take an excavation team several days to help uncover your piano and bookshelves just for a quick dusting?  Can you pack for a trip using only a zip-lock bag, or do you need a moving van for a 3-day camping excursion?

Do some of us need our clutter to feel secure?  What good is an empty coffee table, anyway?  (Is that why my house is small on empty spaces, but big on stacks of this, and piles of that, and candles, vases, and other such nic nacs?)  But, no matter how we choose to keep house, as Christians we can and must daily surround ourselves in our hope in Christ.  The veil was torn, and Christ carried our soul’s anchor into that most secure place of all when He went before us as our High Priest. Our soul is protected there to the very end.  How can we not trust Him?

“…We…have a strong consolation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold upon the hope set before us:  which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and stedfast, and which entereth into that within the vail.”  Hebrews 6:18, 19

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Speaking of silence…

Speaking of silence…

In response to the last blog (Sh-h-h), a friend wrote, “Just think of that miracle in itself: a woman being silent!” That reminded me of a comic showing one man speaking to another. The caption read, “My wife and I had words, but I didn’t get to use mine.”

Moms seem to spend a lot of time saying “Sh-h”. (Whatever time they don’t spend, others nearby may be tempted to do it for them). Proverbs 17:28 brings to mind the quote, “Better to be thought a fool than to open your mouth and remove all doubt.” (No, I’m not insinuating that you are one!)

Then there’s Habakkuk, contrasting his last “woe” for idolatry and the worthless, lifeless pieces of stone, and saying, “But… the Lord is in His holy temple.” (2:20). Then, instead of whooping us into a frenzy about the fact that we have a living God not made with hands, he tells us to stand and worship Him. Keep silent…be quiet… hush! What a silence that would be.

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Sh-h-h-h

Silence is like a hole that we must constantly fill with shovels-full of words.  It takes great effort for some of us to experience it.  I think we often feed on the sound of our voice, feeling that, if we stop talking, people will stop listening (though many may have stopped listening paragraphs ago). 

Imagine the silence of the women in Mark 16:8.  What was going on in their minds?  They had just seen an angel, heard his life-changing words, and received their mission-- “Go…tell…”  No weeping or cheering, but being overwhelmed with reverential fear, just speechlessness!

Imagine seeing and hearing that for the first time.  Has the message become too familiar to us for speechlessness?

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Don’t Lock in That Freshness!

Plastic wrap…containers…lids…tape….foil…rubber bands—these are my tools in the quest for fresh leftovers.  My timeless efforts appear oxymoronic: it often seems I never intend to actually use the contents I have so carefully locked in.  This is born out in the continual discovery of lost items in the recesses of the fridge.

It is not for lack of containers, since I can easily create towers of recycled plastic vessels.  Nor is it for dearth of lids (though often a “fitting” mate is nowhere to be found).

Philemon knew nothing about Tupperware, or of imprisoned meatloaf gone terribly green.  He did, however, know how to “refresh the bowels—the very inner parts of the body—of the saints”.  This is the same word used in Matthew 11:28 when the Lord says “Come unto me all ye who are weary and heavy laden, and I will give you rest”—I will refresh you.

The Lord used Philemon (someone whom Paul had led to the Lord) to show love to Paul (and others) and so give joy and encouragement back to him.

But, Philemon had first been refreshed by Christ.  Paul says that the more Philemon abided in and received refreshment, the more he would understand the Lord’s blessings, and would then more eagerly share with others (v.6).

Are you in need of refreshing from the inside out?  Have you recently been refreshed by someone else’s love? Have you just shared your refreshment with another?  Don’t lock it in—recycle it by returning to Christ and acknowledging “every good thing which is in (you).” You can only refresh others as you have been refreshed.

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The Perfect Get-Away- The Conclusion

No more garden!  I’m sick at the thought.  Here’s what happened:  I was visiting at my friend’s house the other night, and met a lady (who just happened to live in “my garden” mansion).  My first thought was, “How fantastic to meet the owner” and I started to gush on like a fool about how extraordinary it was, etc.  She wasn’t smiling.  Then she asked why I walked so much in her garden.  Talk about speechless!  She walked away, and I was left with a ball of ice in my stomach.  Did I feel like a criminal!  I got the message—not exactly her class of people, and not wanted there (what would people think?).

When I got home that night, everyone was asleep except the baby.  I took  him to the kitchen, grabbed a pen and paper, and sat and sobbed.  The poor kid probably wondered why his mom was squeezing him to death!  On wet paper I wrote out my frustrations in a poem I would never mail:

“My Apology for my Twilight Rambles, addressed to a Lady”.  Here it is:

          Yes, when the toilsome day is gone,

          And night with banners gray

          Steals silently the glade along

          In twilight’s soft array,

          I love to steal awhile away

          From little ones and care

          And spend the hours of setting day

          In gratitude and prayer.

I’m exhausted—but I’ll tell you the rest of the story.

“But I will hope continually, and will yet praise Thee more and more. (Ps.71:14)  Well, the Lord gave me hope in the midst of my cramped, noisy, and busy life when I saw the door to my garden of peace slam shut on my toes.  So, I can only praise Him.

The poem was published in a book.  I guess my title was too long and emotional, so it became “Twilight Hymn”.  They also changed the part that said “From little ones and care” to “From every cumbering care”.  Please don’t think I despise my kids! (Definitely not something you want to be remembered for).  Of course I love and care about my family, but my point was that the busyness of my life drove me to a place where I could pray, meditate, and hope in the Lord, something most moms could relate to, I think.  Here’s another verse they left out.

          I love to meditate on death,

          When shall His message come

          With friendly smiles to steal my breath

          And take an exile home?

No, I wasn’t talking about ending my life, but only about dreaming of heaven, as in this next part of my poem:

          I love by faith to take a view

          Of blissful scenes in heaven:

          The sight doth all my strength renew

          While here by storms I’m driven.

My poem-turned-hymn (remember—no education here!) was published in Village Hymns for Social Worship—very popular in my lifetime.

So, the Lord used a seemingly disastrous event in a chapter of my life—Phoebe Brown, Ordinary Woman --to encourage many people, but most of all, to bring glory to the Him.  And even though I lived in 1818, I could have been you. 

http://www.pointloma.edu/WesleyanCenter/Susanna_E-Journal/Essays/HomeHymn.htm

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